Every time that Thaksin Shinawatra tones down his rhetoric and beseeches his opponents to come to the negotiating table, you can be pretty sure he's in a tight corner.

If he meant what he said, he wouldn't be facing such a huge credibility crisis - that's been proven time and again. And if you are naive enough to take his words at face value, you have only yourself to blame.

"Let's put our heads together. For the sake of our country, I would like to ask all parties concerned to forget about our conflicts and aim for reconciliation," he declared on radio again last week. A few moments after, he said, almost casually: "Some of those who led protests against me in the provinces had been underground lottery operators. They were badly hit by my policy to crack down on illegal lotteries…"

Thaksin was obviously trying to imply that at least some, if not all, of those who are against him had hidden motives or vested self-interests, to protect. In other words, he was portraying himself as a devoted, noble statesman who had fallen victim to criminal gangsters or their advocates - not the wealthy businessman turned politician trying to protect his turf through a web of conflicts of interest, that his detractors have made him out to be.

This, clearly, isn't the language of someone seeking to make peace with a growing segment of the population demanding a role in participatory democracy, as distinct from his brand of "electioneering politics".

Unless one engages in "talk-talk-fight-fight" guerrilla tactics, one doesn't immediately follow an appeal for broad-based reconciliation with a statement calling protesters demanding one's resignation "wayward elements with hidden agenda". Common sense dictates that someone who considers himself a "good guy" doesn't call the other person with whom he is trying to reach a compromise a "bad guy".

That's exactly the ruinous path Thaksin has taken. And it has produced a predictable, deafening refrain. It has become Thaksin's own "art-of-war" strategy: When you think conditions are in your favour, issue threats and declare war; when you begin to lose control, declare a truce and seek reconciliation. And when in doubt, preach to your enemy about the principles of democracy.

Two weeks ago, Thaksin embarked on the warpath when he challenged the "person(s) with charisma outside of the constitution". The tactic backfired. He had probably thought he could put his opponents on the defensive. He thought he could get away with this "sneak attack" ploy. But instead, he got himself cornered. He was likened to someone "screaming for war with wobbly knees". Before long, the badly shaken "warrior" was suing for peace. There was no hiding the fact that he was simply making virtue out of necessity.

But does he expect anyone to fall into his trap? The real problem, however, isn't that Thaksin did it as part of his large, deliberate plan to mislead and deceive his enemies. It all began as a haphazard ruse to get himself out of a particularly tricky spot. But soon, it became a habitual thing. More and more, he said things he didn't intend to carry out. And instead of admitting his mistakes and apologising for his blunders, Thaksin played the part of a narcissist. Somehow, he convinced himself that since he had said it with such confidence, it must have been true.

Consider this latest self-destructive episode: Thaksin, having to defend the three remaining national election commissioners at all costs (for reasons which are no longer a mystery to informed observers), said something quite unthinkable: "Since the National Election Commission has to work on the basis of a consensus, it doesn't matter that there are only three members left. In fact, as I see it, even if only one member is left, he could still do a legitimate job anyway." And he was making this highly illogical and provocative statement in the wake of growing demands for all three of the commissioners to quit, to pave the way for the Supreme Court to name a new line-up, to ensure a free and fair election on October 15.

Besides, he made this controversial remark as the leader of a major party contesting in the upcoming polls. And the National Election Commission is supposed to be an "independent agency" without any leaning towards any particular party. A few minutes later, Thaksin was asked by reporters on the court's position over the NEC's unsatisfactory performance in the past. With a sudden change in attitude, Thaksin brushed off the question with a very impressive response: "I am just a player of the game. I can't comment on the referee's role."

In the span of a few minutes, with a straight face, he went from total entanglement in the matter (the player defending the legitimacy of the referees even if there is only one left) to absolute detachment (I am a good player. I can't say anything about the referee).

Now, when he makes another attempt to say that he is serious about national reconciliation, does he think anybody will take him seriously?